Rewind Boxed Set

by Rowan Shaw

  Someone came in and shook my mom's hand. She was a tall blonde wearing white scrubs. She said something to my mom and then to the nurse, who left the room. The lady glanced at me while holding a slate of her own. Taking her eyes off me, she wrote something down.

  Enzo, I'm doctor Berger. I know things are scary right now. You've lost your hearing, but it's only temporary.

  I nearly choked when I read the words, though I felt relief knowing this situation wasn't permanent.

  We'll have to test you to evaluate the extent of the damage. But you will probably be a good candidate for a cochlear implant.

  Damage? What the heck was a cochlear implant?

  I could tell I was breathing funny, though I couldn't even hear myself breathe. It felt like my chest was constricting and crushing my lungs.

  My mom showed me her slate.

  We love you, mon chéri. We will get through this. Please don't worry.

  "Maman, I don't understand what's going on," I said.

  The doctor responded instead.

  Do you remember what happened?

  I searched my blurred memories and remembered being out and about with Florian when I dragged him into an alleyway and started kissing him. I couldn't recall what happened next.

  I shook my head.

  You were attacked, mon cœur. Your eardrums were perforated, and your inner ears were probably affected. We are looking for ways to restore your hearing.

  My racing heart crashed against my ribcage. I couldn't hear! I couldn't hear a single sound anymore. I kept hoping someone would start laughing and tell me it was all some sick joke, but I could tell from the expression on my mom's face that she wasn't kidding.

  "Is Florian okay?" I asked.

  A muscle twitched in her jaw when she gave me a curt nod.

  "How long have I been here?"

  "A few days," she mouthed.

  "Did Florian call? Can I see him?" I was panicking again. I couldn't trust that he was fine until I saw him for myself.

  My mom shook her head. Her dark eyes hardened with a lack of sympathy. She erased her slate and scribbled quickly.

  Florian hasn't called, mon poussin. I think it's best to forget about him.

  Just like that, my heart broke. I blinked, in shock, and swallowed a rising sob. It felt like my heart was being ripped right out of my chest. I was dying. I had to be dying, right? For my soul to hurt this much?

  "Can I call him?" I insisted.

  My mom's face closed off completely. She scribbled fast.

  Mon chéri, I am trying to kindly tell you that Florian doesn't want to see you. I am so sorry.

  A tear rolled down my cheek unrestrained, quickly followed by more as I choked on my sobs. My mom sat at the edge of the bed and pulled me into her arms. I cried against her neck for a long time, my whole body shaking. I could barely breathe. Why was Florian abandoning me? Why now, when I needed him the most?

  "Why doesn't he want to see me?"

  My mom caressed the back of my head. If she replied, I couldn't tell.

  ***

  I awoke in a somersault, my heart pounding, desperately trying to breathe as I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyelids and rubbed them hard.

  The TV was on, but the sound was muted.

  It took me a few minutes to realize I hadn't turned off the volume. My processor had fallen off my ear. It was lodged under the cushion of my couch, where I'd fallen asleep. I dug for it and put it on just as Florian appeared on the screen.

  I spent ten minutes staring at him while he answered questions from the journalists. I couldn't understand most of what he was saying because there were no subtitles, but I was in awe of him for keeping his emotions under control and coming out on broadcast television. For someone who had lived his entire life in the closet, this was a huge step.

  He stood his ground when faced with adversity. The only time he lost control of his facial expressions was when the journalist asked about me and what had happened eight years ago. Florian refused to discuss the subject. If he was trying to protect me, it was too late for that. The news channels had caught wind of my story all those years ago already. I'd been all over TV back then.

  I would be lying if I said what happened this week didn't bring back its share of bad memories, but that wasn't Florian's fault.

  After I turned off the monitor, I grabbed my phone and messaged him.

  Me: Are you okay?

  I waited a while for a reply that never came.

  Chapter 41

  FLORIAN - EIGHT YEARS EARLIER

  I took a deep breath as I stepped into my high school. I'd already missed over two weeks of classes since my parents had kicked me out right before the new school year. I didn't want to be here, but as soon as I moved in with Raphaël's family, they insisted I resume my studies.

  I felt a chill upon walking down the familiar hallways, carrying my backpack filled with textbooks. I hated being here without Enzo. I didn't want to think of all those memories of us clouding this space. I missed him so much, it was hard to breathe on most days.

  I blinked against my burning tears and cleared my throat.

  "Hey, Florian, how are you?" my classmate Joséphine asked when I walked past her in the stairway. "Is it true what happened to Enzo?"

  "Leave him alone," Raphaël snapped as he reached my level. I hadn't heard him trailing me, even though we'd taken the same bus to get here. "This place is such a gossip mill, I swear," he groaned and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

  I shrugged and smiled at Joséphine without a reply. She was only trying to be kind.

  Raphaël led me to class, where we sat at our desks, me in the back, him in the front of the room. Soon the teacher arrived, and so did the other students. Trying to listen was agony. Enzo's absence by my side was like a damn hole in my space. Raphaël shot me a few glances over his shoulder and mouthed, "You okay?"

  I nodded, though I was anything but fine. The class unfolded slowly like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from, but the worst came at lunchtime. It didn't take long for some asshole to find me and try to stir up some shit as usual. Donovan Leroy, douchebag number one!

  He pulled me to the side of the line in front of the cafeteria and shouted in my face, his fetid breath coupled with spat saliva. "So it's all true, then? I knew you and Enzo were fags for each other. I just knew it! He always had that look about him. So damn precious and all."

  I clenched my fists, but before I could react, Raphaël had Donovan by the back of his jacket.

  "Wanna say that again, jackass? To my face this time," he snarled and yanked him away from me.

  Donovan glowered when Raphaël dropped him. "I wasn't talking to you, Diop. Why don't you go back to your country, huh?"

  I ground my teeth. "This is his country!"

  "Fucking fags and damn foreigners, that's all that's left of this place," Donovan growled.

  Before I could restrain myself, I grabbed him and punched in the stomach, then squeezed the collar of his sweater. "Call us fags one more time, asshole. I dare you."

  I'd failed to defend Enzo once; I wasn't cowering like some damn coward again.

  Donovan sneered at me, but when I raised my fist again, Raphaël shook his head. "He's not worth it, Florian. We don't need detention 'cause of his ass."

  Donovan took that as a sign of weakness and snickered at him. "Go back to Africa, Diop. You don't belong here."

  Raphaël's nostrils flared.

  I was ready to beat the shit out of Donovan, but Raphaël pulled me back again. "Let's go to lunch."

  He dragged me to the cafeteria by my shoulder, though I kept staring daggers at Donovan.

  "He'd better hope I never catch him alone. Bastard!"

  "He's not worth it."

  We entered the hall and reached the service area, where we grabbed a tray each, then looked at the food display after greeting the cooks. I asked for some shepherd's pie while Raphaël picked some spaghetti Bolognese.

  "Why di
d you let him go?" I asked. "Between you and me, he didn't stand a chance."

  Raphaël looked at me steadily, his light hazel eyes dimming with disappointment. "If I get in a fight with him, he will have won."

  "But—"

  "There is no 'but,' Florian. If you're going to stay with my family, you're gonna have to learn that the hard way. I understand you want to defend yourself after what happened to Enzo. And I do too, but my parents don't need us to drag shit like that to their front door."

  "But he was wrong."

  "It doesn't matter," he replied. "Don't you get it? I have to be the better person. Every day, I have to prove that men of color are not what the news and media like to portray. We're not a threat to this country."

  My teeth clenched, but I gave a nod. His parents had been generous enough to take me in. I wasn't going to be the one bringing shit to their front steps.

  Chapter 42

  ENZO - NOW

  When I grew tired of waiting to hear back from Florian, I decided to walk to his place. He answered the door after just a few knocks but froze upon seeing me.

  "Hey," I greeted him and moved to kiss him on the lips.

  He took a step back. The rejection was subtle, but a wall had definitely sprung up between us. I pretended I didn't notice.

  "Are you okay?" I signed, swallowing down the pain of his rebuff.

  He gave a smile that was so strained, I wondered why he bothered at all. He didn't invite me inside either.

  "Are we going to talk in the hall?"

  "Sorry." He stepped to the side and closed the door, then he took me to the kitchen, asking if I wanted anything to drink.

  I shook my head and sat down. He meddled with the espresso machine and made himself some coffee, his back turned to me, blocking me out. It was five P.M. If he'd been drinking coffee like that all week, that explained the dark rings under his fatigued blue eyes.

  "Have you had trouble sleeping?" I asked aloud.

  "I'm fine," he replied.

  He was lying, of course, but I wasn't going to call him out on it. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

  He grabbed a tiny cup and poured his espresso, then grabbed three sugar cubes from a metal box and dropped them all in his drink. I rounded my eyes but didn't comment. I had no idea how he remained so fit when he ingested so much sugar all the time.

  He pressed his back against the counter and took a sip without a word. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a wild mess when he finally placed the cup on the counter and deigned to look at me.

  "Did you hear what I said?" I signed. "You can talk to me if you're worried, you know?"

  "I did hear you. I just don't know how to say what I need to say." His chest rose and fell in a long sigh. I gulped upon his words.

  Stalling, he turned toward a drawer and pulled out a teaspoon to stir his coffee. "When you were attacked, being kicked out by my parents wasn't even the worst for me."

  I scrunched my face. I had a hard time believing that.

  "The worst was realizing there are assholes out there who hate queers enough to want to hurt someone as loving, gentle, and wonderful as you."

  I blinked without a word while he took a sip, his eyes glued to the ground.

  "It was like awakening to a world where I didn't want to live. It tore me apart to think that being queer meant you and I would always be in danger. That most people couldn't be bothered to see beyond our orientation. That we weren't even human to them."

  Florian finally raised his sad, blue gaze toward me, and I suddenly wished he hadn't. The pain in him was vivid, tearing at me. I raised my hand to stop him. "I don't care what people think, Florian. I already told you; I'm not going to live my life in fear. Yes, I lost my ability to hear. No, it wasn't easy. But I didn't let it defeat me. It wasn't the end of the world. And what happened to your business...you shouldn't let that affect you that badly either. I—"

  "Next time, you could die," he cut me off in a snap.

  "Who said there would be a next time? Things have changed."

  "Have they? Look what they did to my business! Open your eyes, damn it!"

  I jerked back in my seat. "Don't yell in my face. I hate it when people shout. It doesn't help solve anything."

  He groaned loudly, his forehead still wrinkled in anger, but he went back to signing. "I have good reason to believe Marlène was behind the graffiti. I told you that already. I think she got help. I reviewed the surveillance tapes. There were three people wearing hoods, which means she got two other people in on it."

  "You don't know it was her. You might be barking up the wrong tree."

  "Nobody else knows I'm bi, Enzo," he signed, his movements fast with frustration. "The moment she dumped me, she spread the word around, and I lost over half my friends. The instant they found out I was bi, they dumped me, trashed me. Some of them even sent me threats. That's how people have always treated me, Enzo. Don't come here telling me society has changed. That's bullshit."

  I didn't agree with him. Things were getting better.

  "You seem to forget being gay used to be illegal in this country," I signed. "Now our community can actually get married. We can adopt children. Things are changing."

  He pursed his lips and looked at me intently. "Says the guy who won't let me touch him in public."

  I stared at him and blinked. I couldn't believe he'd just said that. "That's different."

  "How is that different? You keep telling me things are better now, that you don't want to hide who you are, but you still cringe when I try to hold your hand or give you a kiss in the street."

  I didn't want to admit he was right, so I changed the subject. "If Marlène told other people about you, then it could be one of them who trashed your business. She might not be involved at all."

  He didn't stop watching me when he replied, "I have to wonder who among my friends took part in targeting my business. Marlène knows how hard I worked to build my reputation. It's difficult to open a company in this country, Enzo. I'm not sure you realize all the legal paperwork and responsibilities I've had to go through. Marlène knows this is all I have."

  He closed his eyes and held the bridge of his nose before pinning his gaze on mine. "She can’t find out about you."

  "What does that have to do with me?"

  "I don't trust her. I can't risk you getting hurt because of me."

  I straightened my back, signing fast, "I'm a grown man. I can take care of myself. I'm not a kid anymore."

  "If it's three against one, you won't stand a chance. Even as a grown man."

  I wanted to protest, but sadly, he was right. I still didn't see why he thought I should hide, though. I wasn't scared. I wanted to live my life and not just spend it in a constant state of survival.

  "If she's after what I care about, she will come for you next. I won't let that happen. Not again."

  I could feel what was coming, but I wasn't ready to accept that reality. "What are you saying?"

  "You know what I'm saying."

  "No, I don't," I lied.

  "I can't be with you anymore. Not if it might put you in danger. I can't do that to you again."

  I looked at the table and took a deep breath, then stood from my chair because Florian was still standing, and I felt at a disadvantage. I walked to him and grabbed his shoulders, my body close enough to him that I could smell the coffee on his breath.

  "I won't let you break up with me over this," I said out loud. "If you're tired of me, fine. If you want someone else, fine. If you need to move on, fine. But I'm not letting you wreck this between us just because other people think we shouldn't be together. I'm not letting that happen again."

  His blue eyes never wavered. "I can't do this anymore, Enzo."

  I caressed his cheek, the stubble on his skin prickling my fingertips. He looked like he hadn't shaved in days. He didn't push me back when I leaned into him and pressed a closed-mouth kiss on his lips.

  "You can't tell me you don't want this. I know y
ou too well," I whispered against his skin.

  I stood back to read his lips.

  "This has nothing to do with my need for you," he replied.

  "Don't let others ruin this for us."

  There was a profound sadness to his gaze, rooted much deeper than I could reach. "I can't be with you. I've made my decision. You can't force someone to date you against their will."

  I wasn't letting him break us apart. Not over a random suspicion that some invisible entity might be against us.

  "I needed you back then, and I still need you now," I signed. "Please don't do this."

  He grabbed my shoulders and moved me out of the way so he could walk out of the kitchen. He looked back over his shoulder when he reached the door, his eyes welling up. "I need you to leave."

  I shook my head stubbornly.

  Florian gave me the most heartbreaking look. "I won't ask you again, Enzo. Please leave."

  Chapter 43

  FLORIAN - A MONTH LATER

  I sat in my office, tugging at my hair, my elbows over my desk. I had lost three employees so far. They didn't want to be associated with a business branded as queer, or so I assumed; they hadn't made their reasons clear. Considering I only had five employees to begin with, that didn't bode well for my affairs. Not that it mattered much. Talking on the news had been a terrible idea, just as I thought. I hardly had any tours planned for next week's schedule. Some people had canceled their upcoming tours this week as well. They feared for their safety if I was the target of homophobes.

  I held the bridge of my nose and tried to breathe. I had no idea how to get myself out of this pile of shit, but it felt like I was drowning in quicksand. To top it all, I missed Enzo so damn much, his absence carved a damn hole in my chest. I could almost feel my yearning for him within my bones. That he kept texting me didn't help either.

  I'd tried to break it off for his own good, but he was a lot more stubborn than when we were younger. A part of me wanted to call him and rely on his support to prop me up, but I couldn't bring myself to add all those troubles to his life. Until I knew who had targeted my business, protecting Enzo from the repercussions was all I cared about. If I was going down, I sure as hell wasn't dragging him down with me this time.